


Peaches in September

by oneoneandone



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:48:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27112172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneoneandone/pseuds/oneoneandone
Summary: This place, these people, this life, they're all starting to feel like home.
Relationships: Kelley O'Hara/Hope Solo
Kudos: 10





	Peaches in September

It’s quiet when Hope wakes. Early still, just the yellow pink glow of the sun slowly spreading into the sky. In the distance, in the trees that mark the bounds of the yard, the birds chitter to each other, their secret language of winds and wings. A dog barks, somewhere almost out of hearing, already impatient and ready for the day to start. And further, farther, the gentle rumble of people already on their way, the ones who can’t sleep, who can’t stay still. The ones who can’t quite find their way home.

Here, though, in her little tiny world, the quiet of the night still reigns, unwilling to yield just yet. The silence–something that used to scare her, terrify her, haunt her–now filling her with the most perfect kind of warmth. The knowing that all is safe and well. 

That all are safe and well. 

They’ll wake soon, the other hearts inside this house. The ones she loves. 

But for just this minute, just this perfect moment, Hope is going to soak it in. Think about everything it holds, and everyone. Possibilities and promises. 

—–

She’s sitting at the kitchen island, drinking the first cup from the pot of coffee percolating happily on the counter when her mother-in-law walks in, bouncing a babbling grandchild on her hip.

“I walked past and heard somebody making a mess of his playpen,” Karen laughs as she hands the baby over to Hope, who presses soft kisses over his forehead, smiling as her baby boy snuggles into her chest.

Hope thanks her gratefully, and settles back onto the stool, son in her arms, watching while Karen pours herself a mug of steaming coffee and takes a sip, still black.

“I checked when I came down,” she offers, still feeling a little unsure as a parent before the woman who raised her wife. Even now, twelve months in. “I brought the monitor down, but—“

But Kelley’s mother waves her concern off. “He wasn’t making much noise yet. Just throwing his blanket and his teddy out and onto the floor. And Noah was still asleep so I thought I should bring him down.”

She sat next to them at the island, reaching out a finger to stroke the little boy’s soft, warm cheek.

“Gabe’s your early riser, isn’t he,” Karen smiles at them both, her eyes gentle and loving. “Erin was mine. She’d wake up long, long before I was ready to start the day. But most of the time she’d sit quietly in her crib, amusing herself or talking to the angels.”

Oblivious to being the topic of conversation, the boy reaches out for the mug on the counter before him, and Hope deftly moves it out of reach.

“He’s like that too, like me,” Hope confirms, taking a banana out of the basket of fruit before them and peeling it, breaking off little baby-size pieces and putting them onto the counter for Gabe to pick up with his thick, unsteady fingers. “Noah is our cranky morning boy, just like his mama,” she laughs, and smiles as Karen nods in agreement.

“Oh my, yes, I still count getting Kelley up in the morning when I had to get her up and ready to drop at the base daycare on my way to work as one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do,” the older woman claps her knee in amusement, and the boy in Hope’s lap lets out a pleased belly laugh as he replicates the action, smashing his banana bits into a mushy pulp on top of the island.

Karen wipes the mess up with practiced ease, waving away Hope’s apologies. “Please,” she says, and smiles down at her grandson, “I’m just glad you’re all here. A little banana mess is nothing.” 

—–

The peace of the morning blurs into chaos in the afternoon. The house is full of people and noise, half-heard conversations: old stories, old secrets, old jokes. Laughter that seems to echo off of every surface, every joyful body in the large backyard. But all Hope can see at the moment is love. Love personified. Kelley there, sitting on the large blanket spread out over the warm afternoon grass, their two boys laughing as they crawl all over their mama. 

Hope sits down on the blanket next to them, arms open as Noah barrels into her, the perfect combination of them both with the eyes she and her brother share, and Kelley’s laughing smile. “Are you ready,” she says, tickling his little belly, catching Gabe as he comes up to join his brother. “Are you both ready? This is your day, you know,” Hope laughs as the younger boy flops into her lap with a giggle.

From the house, the singing starts. A rousing chorus of “Happy Birthday” as Kelley’s sister opens the French doors connecting the backyard to the kitchen, her dad stepping through with a large cake in his hands, candles lit and sparkling over the colorful frosting.

Hope and Kelley each pick up a boy and set them in their high chairs at the very end of the picnic table, the very one Hope recognizes from the pictures of her wife’s first birthday in the albums they looked through the night before. It had been something, something precious, to flip through those pages and watch as the little baby face melted away and grew into the one she woke up to every morning, fell asleep to every night. To stop and pause and recognize an expression, the curve of Noah’s jaw, the slight tilt of Gabe’s nose, hidden away in Kelley’s childhood, just waiting for them to happen upon it.

“Alright, babies,” Kelley kneels between them as her dad places big pieces of cake before them. “Are you ready to get messy?”

And Hope can only laugh, full of love, as she watches the inevitable massacre, cake and frosting and the people she loves the most.

Later, after the songs and the candles and the pictures that will fill the albums they’re just starting to create, Hope will pull her wife into a little hidden corner for a moment of quiet, a kiss, and smile as she licks away a fleck if frosting still there on Kelley’s cheek.

—–

The warm body slips into bed beside her, snuggling up close under the light quilt that’s covering the bed, and Hope smiles. 

“We made it,” she whispers, and brushes a kiss across her wife’s lips. 

Kelley hums against her mouth, smiling as she tastes the toothpaste on Hope’s lips. “We made it,” she agrees, stretching an arm over the older woman’s waist, slipping it under the soft cotton shirt Hope had pulled on for bed, feeling the warm skin there. 

Hope laughs and kisses her again before she shifts a little to look at her watch. “If I remember correctly, one year ago today, at exactly this time, you were sweaty, and exhausted, and holding my hand so tightly I wasn’t convinced I’d ever be able to use it again.”

Kelley chuckles. “Don’t forget swearing,” she leans in to brush her nose against Hope’s cheek. “I was definitely swearing at you. And I think there were probably some threats, too. But those parts are a little blurry.”

“Oh, there were definitely threats,” Hope remembers. “But I promised I’d never hold them against you.” She shifts onto her side, so she can look down at the woman next to her.

“Do you want to know what I remember about that day,” she whispers, caressing her wife’s jaw. “I remember how strong you were, and how brave. Even when things got scary.” Hope brushes a thumb over Kelley’s brow as the younger woman closes her eyes, slipping back into the memory of fear. 

Hope continues. “I remember how even when I thought I knew just how much I could love someone, you proved me wrong again and again and again that day. How in awe of you I was–I am,” she adds. “But most of all, I remember that when the day was finally over, when all of it was over, and all the tests were done and calls were made,” her fingers slip under the blanket, finding Kelley’s hand, and linking their fingers together, “it was just the four of us. Me, and you, and the two perfect gifts you brought into the world that day.”

She presses a soft kiss to the corner of Kelley’s mouth. “Our family.” 

Heart thudding in her chest as she grips their joined fingers tightly, chasing after Hope’s lip, Kelley takes a breath. “I’ve got a present for you,” she whispers in the dark room, looking into her wife’s perfect blue eyes.

“For me?” Hope looks down at her in surprise. “But it’s not my birthday,” she laughs, quieting when she sees the serious, meaningful expression flickering over Kelley’s face.

Hope’s breath catches in her throat. “Kel,” she whispers, too nervous to guess what her wife is about to tell her.

But Kelley kisses away the worry there.

“If it’s twins again,” her eyes sparkle in the dark, the rest of the sentence lost to Hope’s delighted cry, to the night, to the secret promise growing, safe, within her.

**Author's Note:**

> "I Am a Town," Mary Chapin Carpenter


End file.
